Ok, so I called.

Doesn't really matter now, I suppose.

In any case, my car was sliced open like a sardine can last week, apparently due to a truck driver making an innocuous mistake.

An expensive mistake at that.

But no matter.

I'm trying to figure out what I wanted to say, but the words are not egressing out of my lungs for some particular reason.

Perhaps I've been smoking too much.

As usual.

Back to Vancouver tomorrow. Wish me a pleasant trip.

And please don't berate me because I've been lazy. I must admit, I don't give a shit about much anymore, though it doesn't mean I have constipation. The truth is, I'm starting to think that I'm mellowing out, and in need of a rest of a longer sort.

Though after tonight, I'm thinking I need to reassess my priorities.

For example, drinking coffee at bedtime is, perhaps, one of the dumber things anyone can do.

Besides using a butcher knife to trim your...